by Nesa Miller
“You’re a fool to think you can defeat me,” the demon yelled, stalking around the dance floor. Cheers from the crowd ushered him on. “DJ!” His red eyes stayed on his prey. “Play us a killer tune.” He laughed, watching the Krymerian struggle to stand. “That shit armor won’t protect you from my sword.”
Back on his feet, Dar took a defensive stance. A barrage of bruising blows rained down. One jab slipped through a gap, opening a gash behind Dar’s left arm. Another laid open a slash across the side of his face.
“You’re fast, but it won’t be enough to save you.” The demon slapped the flat side of his blade against Dar’s cracked ribs.
Dar grunted and blew out a breath. “But I have not told you about the girl.” He sidestepped the next attack, dropped to the floor, and rolled past his assailant. Determined, he charged in from behind. Too late, the demon found himself on the defensive, receiving a slash across his own back. Dar channeled the pain from his ribs into a series of well-placed hits.
Zagan danced away, bleeding but otherwise unfazed by the blows. “By all means, tell me about the girl.” He laughed, grabbing his crotch. “Did I split her in two with my monstrous cock?” Laughter broke out around them.
“She was young, smart.” Dar attacked like a man possessed. “Smart enough to outwit you. She lives amongst the Alamir now. I am sure a failure like that did not go unnoticed by your benefactor.” He faked a low cut.
“Your shit talk means nothing to me.” The demon slashed down to block the hit, lowering his guard. The tip of his sword slammed into the floor.
“Etain.” Judging by the look on his face, Zagan clearly remembered. Dar’s black blade ran up the length of the great sword, striking the demon’s exposed neck. Ba’alzamon sliced through the bone, neat and clean. “This is for her.” An inky trail of blood, made black by the flashing colored lights, streaked across the dance floor. Shocked by the suddenness of the move, the body held its position, supported by the demon’s blade stuck into the wooden floor.
Bruised and battered, Dar collapsed to one knee and inventoried his wounds, keeping a keen eye on the other patrons of the bar. He was not sure if they would come for him or let it be. Faces turned to one another. Some smiled. Some frowned. Others had no expression at all. The cronies at the assassin’s table stared at Dar, their faces like stone. He held his breath, his grip tight on the hilt of his sword.
The show over, the demon bookie waddled up to the table. “Pay up, boys. You lost.”
One flashed a menacing grin at Dar then looked at the bookie. “Not me, Taly. Zagan never wins at anything. You owe me.”
Everyone at the table turned their stony expressions on the winner. One closest to him, punched him in the arm. “Bastard! I should’ve done the same.”
The others broke into laughter, paying their bets from the pot in the center of the table, the Krymerian warrior forgotten.
Dar released his breath and struggled to his feet, straining to sheath Ba’alzamon, doing his best to keep the broken ribs in place. Ready to be on his way, he kicked the inert body over onto the floor, and dragged the dagger from his boot. With the precision of a seasoned hunter, he opened the chest and plunged his hand into the bloody mass, removing the black heart. Dark liquid oozed from the useless organ in its final rhythmic beats. He moved across the floor and retrieved the head, its eyes forever frozen in a shocked glare.
Chanting a spell, he vanished, reappearing in Etain’s room. He left the trophies of his kill on the chest at the foot of the bed.
“A debt is paid.”
The first rays of morning light peeked through a gap in the drapes. Stiff muscles demanded a wakening stretch in preparation of the day. Twisting and turning, Etain noticed the open door and sat up, now fully awake. The gruesome sight at the foot of the bed gave her a start, clouded red eyes staring at her.
What the hell?
She shivered, scanning the room, her gaze coming back to the ugly head. At its side sat a chunk of coal. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a heart. It was then she saw the bloody footprints leading out of the room. She dressed and followed the trail to Dar’s room.
Dark smears of red covered the open door and frame. Without knocking, she walked in, seeing a black sword on the floor. Its master was on the bed, dressed in blood-soaked armor, his back to her.
“Dar,” she called softly, coming closer. “What’s happened? Dar, are you awake?”
“I am now,” he said, irritation in his voice. “What do you want?”
“Why are you dressed like that?”
She stepped back as he turned and pushed up, his jaw clenched. Weariness showed in his eyes. With a grunt, he stood and picked up the sword, clearly favoring one shoulder, swaying as he faced her. “Hold this.” He placed the hilt in her hand. When she tentatively grabbed it, he commanded, “Recede.” The armored breastplate tucked into itself. Dar shivered as each piece vanished into the next, revealing his battered torso. Taking hold of the blade, he placed the tip at his heart. “We can end it right now. Push it in. That is all you have to do. One good push and all this will come to an end.”
The audacity of his request outweighed the shock of his lacerated appearance. “What are you talking about?” Etain tugged on the hilt, but it wouldn’t move.
He pulled the tip hard against his chest, cutting into the bruised skin. “A single thrust and the bad man will go away forever,” he said, daring her with his eyes. “Is it not what you want? Me gone?”
“I’m perfectly willing to leave. There’s no need for this.”
“Your leaving will not solve the problem. Use this blade to end it.”
She knew the pain reflected in his face wasn’t from the blade digging into his flesh. “Is this a test?”
“This is the only way to release both of us from this hell. If you want me out of your life, drive it in. If not, tell me why.”
“Don’t be stupid. I will not take your life.”
“Why?” Anger flickered in his eyes. “We circle each other, taking pieces here and there, never accepting what the other offers, yet never letting go. End this agony for both of us.”
“Do not tell me what to do.” She jerked the blade from his flesh, pacing in exasperation. “Don’t tell me what I feel.” She stopped, pointing the sword at him. “And do not expect me to give you an easy way out. A flash of your boyish grin, the flex of a muscle, and a few pretty words aren’t going to spread my legs.”
Dar grit his teeth. “Do not insult me with your jealous taunts.”
The sword returned to his bruised chest. “It was you who summoned us. We came, thinking you needed our help. Instead, you abused our naïveté, then took Faux to your bed with no regard to how it may affect me.” Electrical charges crackled along her form. “You far outdo me with the insults.”
“Let me assure you, there was nothing naïve in Faux’s performance. She knows what she does, and does it damn well.”
“Then you’re well-suited for each other. Each contemptuous word you speak makes killing you a temptation that’s hard to resist.”
“Before you end my miserable existence, let me clarify one thing.” Dar wheezed another breath, holding his ribs. “I did not take her to my bed.”
“It doesn't matter. You fucked my sister and thought to do the same with me.” Her voice was low, close to menacing. “All on the same bloody night.”
“It does matter. Since the death of my wife, taking a woman to my bed is an intimacy I have never shared.”
Etain recognized the red tint around his blue eyes. To keep the situation from escalating to a level she couldn’t handle, she released an electrical charge, hitting his bruised ribs. Dar hissed and dropped to his knees, the red glow disappearing.
“Guaranteed, you won’t be sharing it tonight.” The sword hovered over his heart, ready for a quick dispatch.
Life would be much simpler.
A trickle of fresh blood oozed down his chest.
Her gaze came up, rea
dy to challenge his arrogance. What she found was not what she expected. His earlier aplomb had dissolved into misery.
Bloody hell.
She tossed the blade aside.
“What have you done?” He groaned, allowing her to help him to the bed. “Let me have a look. Sit as still as you can.” Light fingers ran over his side, determining the damage, trying not to hurt him further. “I’m no healer, but Spirit’s taught me a thing or two.” After a quick inspection and a few grunts from her patient, she confirmed the cracked ribs. “There’s not much I can do about it other than wrap you up and wait for them to mend by themselves. Do you have bandages?”
“I have no need of an infirmary.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “I hate to burst your macho bubble, darlin’, but you have a need now. Where are your linens? I'll have to make my own.”
“Linens? Good question. I believe there is a closet of some sort at the end of the hall.” Etain disappeared from the room. “But I do not know if there are linens.”
Gone for only a few moments, she returned with sheets and towels in hand. “I’m happy to say you have plenty of linens.” She tore one sheet into strips, setting them aside. Seeing the door to the en suite ajar, she slipped inside, dampening several towels. His shirt removed, she set to the chore of washing away the sweat and blood. “Don’t worry, big man. You’re in good hands.”
“I have no doubt in your abilities, milady.”
With his chest and upper abdomen firmly wrapped, she stepped back, admiring her work. “I believe I can put off piercing that black heart for a few more days. You won't be charming any lasses in your bed…or otherwise.” He grunted in response. “Care to tell me what caused these injuries?”
“I did it for you and the family you lost, milady.” The truth in his eyes caught her off- guard. “I have avenged their deaths. The head and heart are from the demon who killed your family, trophies to be dispatched of as you see fit.”
His admission set her emotions into turmoil. Sadness for a family forever lost clashed with the satisfaction the assassin had paid with his life. Her only regret was that he had not died by her hand. “I will see them burned.” She refused to consider what that meant in regards to her humanity. It seemed as though it was fast becoming a lost commodity in the Alamir world.
To keep it could get me killed, but to lose it would certainly turn me into a… Her gaze met his, demon.
“I would choose better protection next time, Lord Darknight. This one nearly cost you an arm.”
“It is the armor of my forefathers,” he defended. “It has served me well in the past. I thought it appropriate for the battle.”
“Do you not like having all your body parts?”
He grinned. “Some more than others.”
Etain reached for the blade in her boot, positioning it over her forearm. “Shall I administer our special elixir?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You need to recover from yesterday. Just wrap me up.”
She cleaned and bandaged his shoulder, then helped him relax into the pillows. “You are to rest.”
“Will you stay with me?” he whispered.
“Me? I’d think Faux would be more to your liking.”
His face, a mix of weariness and frustration, made her relent. “Thank you for what you’ve done.” She sat on the edge of the bed and encased his hand in hers. “Did he happen to mention why he murdered my family, before you took his head?”
“No. But he did remember them…and you.”
“I guess that’s something.” She sighed. “I just wish it had been my blade.”
Her fingers traced along his forearm in admiration of the well-defined muscles flowing into elegant hands. She thought how unusual it was to see such hands on a warrior. Their elegance belied their capacity for destruction. What would it feel like to have those hands moving over her body, caressing her skin, driving her to an ecstasy of destruction? She smiled, lost in the thought.
“Does this mean you don’t hate me?”
Jarred from her thoughts, she shrugged. “Hate is such a strong word.” Etain looked him in the eye. “I heard what you said. You need to give me time to sort out what it means.”
“I don't think that will be a problem.” He flinched with the laugh.
“I should hate you.”
“I have made mistakes, hurting you in the process, milady. For that, I cannot apologize enough.”
She dropped his hand on the bed. “Yes, yes. Sorry is as sorry does.”
He grabbed her thigh before she could get away. “I speak the truth.” Something in his voice made her listen. “My time with Faux was not planned. Contrary to what you may believe, I did not bring either of you here for that purpose.” He waited for another inevitable eye roll. When it did not come, he decided it might have been easier than the ice-cold gaze he presently endured. The contrite man ventured further into the fray with a brave outlook, thinking a common-sense approach would help. “There is some good that has come from it.” A blonde brow lifted. “We can breathe easier knowing the mark on Faux’s belly will deter any sway Midir might have over her. He can no longer use her as a tool to get to you.”
She nodded thoughtfully, giving him a sideways glance. “I see.”
He watched her twist off the bed and look down at him, an unearthly smile on her lips. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
“You fucked her to keep me safe? You almost had me believing you and your patheticness.”
He had not seen that one coming. “Etain...” He reached for her, but she dodged him.
“Then with her fucked and me fucked, everyone would be fucked…except Midir. All this fucking has dulled your senses. Have you forgotten what he did to your first family? Mark or no mark, he won’t use her to get to me. He’ll use her to get to you. Thank you for convincing me I don’t belong here.”
“This is exactly where you belong,” he blustered, groaning as he shifted to the edge of the bed. “I thought we were past all that.”
She turned and walked away. “I suggest you heal fast. You’re gonna need everything you got to keep the likes of her safe.” At the door, she stopped. “I'll be gone before morning.
“You will not leave,” he roared, standing, doing his best to come to his full height.
“You’re not my chieftain, or my lord. I am no longer under your command. You are nothing to me.”
“There's nowhere you can hide, Etain. Wherever you go, Midir will find you.”
“You two have a lot in common, don’t you?” she quipped, turning her back to him. “Don’t be concerned. He will never use me against you. I won’t allow it.”
Dar swayed, bracing himself with a hand to the wall, watching her walk away, the needed words unspoken. For the second time in his life, he felt unhinged. He’d not felt this way since the brutal death of his family. His brute strength, which had served him well in so many instances, was as useless now as it had been then. What was it about this young woman that affected him so strongly?
He was amid a tragedy he had no idea how to stop. His experience in dealing with women was limited. As a youth, he had played his fair share of games with the young Krymerian maids, but nothing serious. With Alexia, he had only just begun to learn that intimacy with a woman went beyond the physical.
“You must stay,” he said with less vigor, his world starting to spin out of control. Tumbled thoughts slammed into one another.
She said you were nothing to her.
If I were nothing, she would not be so angry.
Are you certain? Do you truly know her heart?
Aye, I do.
He had to make her stay, wanted her to stay, needed her to stay. Not the warrior or the chieftain, but the man.
“It has always been you, Etain. Since that day at the wall, the moment I held you in my arms, I knew.” His heart felt on fire, his stomach turning inside out.
How do I tell her?
The truth shall set y
ou free.
Or seal my coffin.
“Coming to your defense is the excuse I used to stay close.” He rested his forehead on the cool stone of the wall. “Etain...” He had to speak the words, lest she leave and never know. “I am in love with you.”
Dar waited, watching the door, hoping she had heard him and would return. Several minutes passed. It was obvious he had pushed too far, his words inadequate. Collapsing back onto the bed, he released a long, hard breath, believing she was lost to him forever.
Ever the warrior, a plan to confront his brother began to take shape. Better to take the offensive in this situation, find a way to lure Midir to his realm and fight him on familiar turf.
On the other hand, Midir's castle is as familiar to me as my own. I will not let him take her. He will destroy everything good in her, and heaven help us should she turn to the darkness.
Out of the corner of his eye, there was a sudden movement in the doorway. Etain was there, staring at him. He sat up, watching her walk toward him.
“Do you know what love is?” she asked, standing over him.
“I loved my family with all my heart, but there was a void. One they could not fill, no matter how much I longed for it. Meeting you changed my life. I do not know how it happened, or exactly when, but having you in my life, no matter how small, fills the void. A look, a smile…” He blinked, unshed tears hot in his eyes. “I love you, Etain.”
She kneeled in front of him, covering his hands with hers. “That first night we spent together, talking…” She reached up, pushing a lock of hair from his face, “you stole my heart. I think it’s why I’ve been so angry with you. I’ve not been able to get it back.”
He ignored the pull of his ribs and brought her up between his legs. “I am sorry I have been so thickheaded.” His deep blue gaze held hers, allowing one last search. Any hint of treachery and he knew she would be gone. “It appears I have a lot to learn, as well.”
A soft smile touched her lips. “Good thing I’m so patient and understanding.”
He raised a brow. “Ahem… Aye. Were you not, I suppose we would be less one Krymerian.” Now was the time to take the risk, to ask the damning question he had avoided for fear of her rejection. “Etain, will you be my lady? Can we work as one?”